today we are back

to cold, grey, emerging like

grubs, spring’s first pickings

I asked how’s business

a taxi driver told me slow

his cab is so clean

there are cars again

kids roaring engines, shredding

tyres, ripping tarmac

venturing outside

beyond crocus-skirted trees

enjoying the sun

children on the streets

going back to school once more

serious faces

an old wooden boat

pink clouds dance around her masts

for the setting sun

beautiful creeper

adorning a tree, now dead,

in luscious colour

a rustling of leaves

magpies’ raucous kakking cries

silent slinking cat

scattering of stones

a dyke hand built, calloused hands

back – long since broken

a cat is purring

reverberating, nudging

the tea from my hand